The Great Escape Chapter 18, Part 3 of 9

The Great Escape
Chapter 18, Part 3 of 9

And helpful, especially helpful. For example, Dagma and Dipti were two generously endowed women with plenty of milk to spare and loved to suckle any baby. They'd been a great help to Annela when her occasional headaches made her disinclined to feed Freya. Now, they helped women from all the tribes whose milk may be inadequate or whose nipples were sore.

Another good reason for Ezra to avoid the chiefs' meetings was Megan's rule to prevent private contact with Madam Gloria. The plain but oddly alluring Cloner Chief smiled at him from a distance and seemed unconcerned that he hadn't yet visited her in her room. She would have laughed heartily at the reason that she was a sexual siren who inspired jealousy in Ezra's bedmates.

It was curious that the matter of who should be his bedmates during the Cloner Fair had never come up. He arrived with the Woodlanders and was due to leave with the Mariners, but Ezra belonged indiscriminately to all three tribes during the thirteen intercalary days at the end of the year.

Even so, perhaps because there were so many of his bedmates here, Ezra was less pestered for sex than during his regular monthly visit to the tribes. He was far from complaining but rejoiced in being able to spend so much time with the mothers and daughters he loved.

Something changed for Annela when she got to the Cloner Fair.

The shaking ride brought on a blinding headache that lasted for two days. During this time, she left Freya in the crèche with the other mothers and sat in the tent she shared with Erin and Carlin to be quiet and alone. However, the day after Market Day, she woke up with a prominent head—like a calm day after a storm.

Everything was bright and fresh, and her joy returned. Annela was her old happy self again, staying in bed to laugh and joke with Freya, teasing her and making her giggle. When they got up, Freya wanted to go to the crèche, so Annela dropped her off with Dagma and strolled in the sunshine, rejoicing her ability to walk, run, and skip without pain.

After half an hour of fast walking, Annela was at the hill's peak, where she stopped and spun like a top, arms outstretched, her peasant skirt billowing up to show off her perfect legs. She spanned until she was dizzy. Making herself dizzy was an act of defiance against the wicked disease. She wanted to do to herself, on purpose and for fun, what the damn thing the 'tumor,' Ezra called it did to her against her will.

That piece of satisfying nonsense achieved, Annela sat down and rejoiced in the day's beauty.

She took in the view of the Cloner Fair, with its flags, tents, and busy market stalls; the crowds of happy people haggling over prices; the wild screams of girls at the Maypole or splashing in the river.

Happiness was beginning to overwhelm her. Annela needed an outlet, and there, running up the hill, was the irrepressible Tamar, heading toward her.

When Tamar saw Annela climbing the hill, she assumed she wanted to be alone. However, she never took her eyes off her friend, whose resistance to pain and despair was the bravest thing she knew. When she saw Annela spinning, Tamar knew she was feeling better and would accept her company.

Angela stood to meet her friend.

"Do you want a hug?" she asked.

"Do I?"

They hugged tightly, pressing their breasts together, smelling each other's hair as they hummed happily.

After five minutes of hugging, Tamar eventually released Angela.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Tamar said.

"Oh, God! So much better!"

Annela pulled the skinny girl tightly to her again and kissed her on the mouth in the Woodlander style, but even this affection was not enough to satisfy her feelings. The contrast between blinding pain and effervescent joy was too much to bear. She was popping with happiness, and Tamar could feel it. Annela was hot to the touch, breathing deeply, and her eyes shone brightly.

"I know what you need," Tamar said, years of questioning and snooping now paying off.

"What do I need?"

"A bloody good shagging!"

"Tamar!"

"Well, it's true."

Tamar justified everything questionable by saying, "Well, it's true," or "I was only asking."

Annela couldn't deny it.

"It is true," she whispered.

"Come on," Tamar said confidently, taking her friend by the hand and pulling her downhill. I know what to do."

Tamar led the bemused but hopeful woman to her tent so Annela could prepare it while she went to fetch Ezra from the crèche. When Tamar said she had something important to show him, Ezra came along gamely, always willing to indulge Tamar's schemes.

When he saw Annela emerge from her tent, looking happy and normal, her red-gold hair shining in the sunlight and her thin skirt flapping in the breeze, he stopped and smiled at her.

"Come on," Tamar said, pulling him forward. "Take your time. I'll stand guard."

"No, you won't, young lady," Ezra said, remembering how Tamar's inquisitive nature had led her to spy on him from the roof of the Honeymoon Lodge. "You run along and enjoy yourself at the Fair."

With a kiss on Annela's cheek, the girl obeyed, leaving Ezra and Annela alone.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello yourself."

"How are you feeling."

He didn't finish his question because she leaped on him and wrapped her legs around his waist. She pressed her mouth against his, holding him tightly around the neck. He bundled them into the tent. They were naked in a minute; then he had her tightly again, his arms around her waist. It was almost a bear hug; he was so possessive. She was equally possessive, her arms tight around his shoulders, holding their mouths together.

They maintained the kiss as they lay down, his forearms still arms under her back, giving it an arch. She wrapped her legs around him again as they lay together, kissing, loving, and sharing their bodies. They gradually melded into each other. Tongues pressing together felt like a single tongue. Chest and bellies pressed together, hearts beating fast, breathing in time with each other; they were a single body held together by passion.

His hands on her back were firm, holding her in place. Her grip on him was just as tight and loving, making her part of him and him part of her. It was warm, possessive love, their movements aligned, passion growing precisely in time. Her wetness, his stiffness: it was all perfectly synchronized.

When he pushed his stiff cock into her, she raised her pelvis to meet him, and it was like a key locking them together. They shared the movement, slow, gentle, short strokes, a sensuous rhythm, just enough to keep him hard and give her the pleasure of being filled.

A timeless period later, the kiss unbroken, the rhythm faster; breathing deeply, Annela moaned in her throat, a joyful keening that gradually became more urgent. She wallowed in the heat from his body and the rubbing pleasure of his cock in her pussy, every stroke a delight, her pleasure feeding off his.

She felt her heartbeat throbbing in her throat. Everything pushed her into a place of heightened sensitivity and expanded pleasure, a surge of happiness so profound she wanted to cry.

Then, she had the sudden pleasure of a climax. It sneaked up on her and released itself over her thighs and back, shaking her legs and making her arch, stomach muscles bunching, pussy muscles bearing down on his cock with quick rhythmic pulses while aching tingles spread out along her arms and legs.

They were thrusting full length now, and Annela stiffened again a few minutes later with another peak. She broke the kiss to breathe in large gulps of air and pant with her eyes shut, shaking her head from pleasure that wouldn't dissipate but kept returning to shock and jolt her.

She relaxed her breathing and kissed him again. Now she could hear the squelch of her pussy around his cock; but soon that the humming in her throat displaced sensual noise, the hard breathing through her nose, and, above all, the thumping blood in her ears.

The rub from his cock kept her on the plateau, where bright little climaxes built up relentlessly into a sweeping long orgasm.

They were still in tune when they rolled over, and she straddled him, her hands on his shoulders, her legs astride his waist, her bottom pumping quickly. She pushed herself up higher and sped up even more. Eventually, she was upright, her hair shaking, her little tits wobbling, riding him straight up and down with a bit of pelvic thrust at the bottom.

Now she found her voice. Her moans were high-pitched with a sweet, girlish urgency as if the joy cascading around her body was unexpected and new. She lent back so the tip of his cock brushed the nervy g-spot that always gave her the biggest orgasms. There was another orgasm building now.

She was ready, maybe over-ready, after a long and slow build-up. She put her hands on his knees and lent so far back that she couldn't ride him anymore, but they thrust pelvises together, his cock catching her sweet spot every time.

There was no preventing the magnificent peak. She stiffened again and cried, "I love you!" as she erupted in an ecstatic release, squirt dribbling down her thighs. The unbearable pleasure shook her legs and stiffened her stomach muscles. The pulsating spasm in her pussy sent out waves of ecstasy around her body and briefly took away her strength.

Now he held her tightly by the waist, his fingertips touching the gully of her back. He thrust up into her, working toward the finish, his hard cock pumping into her bright red pussy, making her buck and gasp.

Annela reached another peak before Ezra was done. Again, she cried out, "I love you," and suffered another eruption. She convulsed and dripped. The orgasm drained the last of her strength. Her head shook, and she began to lose focus.

Ezra made the last few frantic thrusts, held his cock in her, and the mind-blanking red-hot pleasure came over him. "I love you," he grunted through clenched teeth as the spasms overwhelmed him, and his cock pumped out his juice in slow, almost painful surges.

Another few thrusts, and he was done, relieved of his load with a low groan and a hard squeeze with his hands on her waist. Panting, he withdrew, and the pent-up squirt in Annela's pussy gushed out. She gasped and lay on him, still buzzing, occasionally feeling aftershocks.

Kissing her again, he laid a finger flat on her clitoris. Seconds later, she hunched with a final small climax, and then it was all over. Though it was only afternoon, they fell into the best kind of sleep: the sleep of the sexually fulfilled.

Annela enjoyed a week without headaches. She and Ezra often made love, but soon, she generously relinquished him to his other bedmates. To be pain-free and happy was pleasure enough for now.

She began to think the mild climate of Cloner City and the cool breeze from the mountains were curing her. Maybe there was a chance of permanent relief, and Ezra's fears were a false alarm. In her heart, she knew this was unlikely, but a desperate mind would cling to every last hope.

The relapse, when it came, was brief but severe. Annela blacked out for ten minutes while watching Freya toddle around the Maypole. Madam Medic was summoned and insisted on examining Annela in the Cloner City. However, the girl had recovered enough to stand and tried to refuse treatment, not wanting to cause any fuss.

Madam Medic and her team kept Annela under observation for two days, but unfortunately, their knowledge and remedies were no better than anyone else's. Although Annela was stable and pain-free at the time, it was disappointing that no one knew how to help.

Ezra kept his plan secret from Annela and Mirselene. He had only told Solange so far, and now he has asked Yumi for a private chat. She left Hayate, and they went to her bedroom in the Council Hall to talk. Yumi understood and promised her support. While they were there, it seemed natural they should want to have sex, which Yumi justified by saying that she wasn't a Cloner and, anyway, she fancied it. They fucked doggy-style, nice and slowly, making it last.

Besides bickering over prices, the chiefs discussed Ezra's sexual role in Samothea. In eighteen months, he'd fathered only girls, twenty of them, all beautiful and precious, of course.

Madam Medic confirmed her opinion that Ezra likely couldn't have boys. She had no idea why not and couldn't guarantee what would happen. The case of Kalyndra was ambiguous: though she failed to conceive a clone using his cells, she also failed to use her cells.

Even so, Mirselene argued that they should err on the side of caution and keep to the present arrangement, leaving Ezra off-limits to the Cloners, Farmers, and Miners, just in case he managed to father a boy in the future.

Gloria nodded. She didn't blame Mirselene for promoting the self-interest of her tribe. Calliope and Galatea seconded her. Keeping Ezra to themselves balanced the power of the three tribes against the Cloners.

Madam Medic proposed a compromise. She didn't know why Kalyndra couldn't conceive, but they would try the cloning procedure using Ezra's cells with women whom they knew could successfully conceive clones. If this failed, she said, it would be the best evidence to show that boys couldn't be created on Samothea, and there would be no reason to restrict Ezra from the other tribes.

This suited the chiefs and gained the agreement of Madam Lawspeaker, so Gloria approved the plan unanimously. They assumed Ezra's consent.

The last item the chiefs and councilors sat down to address became a lively argument. It was Samothea's question of currency. At the moment, the Cloner Tokens were a de facto currency, though they were so valuable that most trading was done by barter. Moreover, the Cloner Tokens were owned collectively by each tribe and, therefore, in the gift of the chiefs. However, if the tokens were not being used to buy clones, they were an inefficient currency. It is much better to have coins that can be used by anyone who wants to trade.

Galatea made the suggestion. In the months after taking over from Solange as acting chief of the Herders, Galatea initiated a policy of buying as many new cloned animals as the tribe could afford.

Transporting the horses to the city or carrying the team of cloners to the various camps to impregnate the animals, there had been hard work spread over many months, especially when so many of the Herders were nursing mothers, including Solange herself, but the braves knuckled down, and, by the time of the Cloner Fair, every sheep and cow was carrying a lamb or a calf, and half the horses were pregnant.

Soon, the Herders would be more prosperous in animals than ever. However, if Gloria's guess were correct, they would have spent all their Cloner tokens. Gloria's informants at the Fair told her that those tokens they hadn't yet used, the Herders, were spending freely now.

So when Galatea suggested a new currency, Gloria smiled appreciatively, though the others on the Cloner Council were not ready to applaud the Herder woman's wiliness.

Galatea proposed that the new currency be given out equally to all the adult women of Samothea at a particular start date. After that, only a woman's talent, enterprise, or luck would determine how rich or poor she became.

Of course, the plan was criticized. Not everyone saw the need for regular currency, but Gloria was sympathetic.

"I'm for the plan," she said, "although us Cloners will lose out. ... I admit that, while we had a monopoly of new children, we made the most of our position."

This was an understatement. The Cloners had accumulated all the old-Earth technology they could (to preserve it, so they said). Hence, most old-Earth luxuries, such as good clothes, shoes, cutlery, crockery, and mirrors, also came to the Cloner City.

"But in Galatea's scheme," Gloria continued, "prices will find their level again. I can see no long-term threat to economic stability."

"But perhaps there are consequences you have not considered, Madam," said Madam Lawspeaker, "or some consequences we cannot predict."

"No doubt, Aunt. It is something we should discuss in detail. We cannot decide it here and now."

Galatea had a further proposal.

"We can set up a committee to discuss the currency, to understand its economic impact and, perhaps, bring a vote to the whole population."

Gloria smiled to herself. If Galatea's proposal was unacceptable, this committee might be the real intention, disguised as a compromise deal.

"That's a good idea," Gloria said. "I suggest a committee of three: one spokesman for the Cloners, Farmers, and Miners; one spokesman for the three outer tribes; and a third spokesman chosen by the two others so there can be majority decisions."

Calliope and Galatea agreed, but Mirselene had doubts, thinking the new committee would diminish her tribe's status.

"In fact," Galatea argued, "the committee will enhance the status of the three tribes, putting us on parity with the home tribes."

Gloria looked pleased, though it seemed that she had been out-maneuvered. The meeting ended amicably.

Wildchild herself waited on the meeting and, afterward, bringing in refreshments, asked Mirselene if she could speak to her privately. This made the Woodlander Chief apprehensive.

She feared the girl intended to say she wasn't returning to the forest tribe. It would be her right, of course, but it was a decision Mirselene would regret.

Warily, Mirselene invited Wildchild to visit her the following day.

When Wildchild arrived, she curtsied before her chief because she was a Junior representing the Cloner Council. It was a deep curtsey that showed respect and politeness. Mirselene was charmed, yet the formality added to her apprehension, perhaps hinting at Wildchild's allegiance.

As Wildchild waited for the older woman to speak, Mirselene took a good look at her. Wildchild had matured in the last year, growing to nearly five feet ten inches, about five inches taller than Mirselene. She had also developed more curves, though she was still undeniably an athlete.

Wildchild let her hair grow down to her shoulders. The tight black curls shone healthily, evidence of a daily care treatment she hadn't previously indulged in. Her face glowed with health and happiness, and an intelligent sparkle graced her electric green eyes. Her dress was elegant but girly: a pale-yellow sister of the pink frilly number that Hazel picked out a year ago. She wore it proudly.

It descended to her knees, revealing strong calves and well-formed ankles. A belt around her waist made the fabric hug her hips and outline her small, firm breasts. The dress's wide neck showed finely sculpted collar bones and an elegant neck up to a small, determined chin and small pink mouth.

Mirselene smiled kindly but with a slightly wistful regret.

"I must say, Wildchild," she said at last. It's an absolute pleasure seeing you again. I expect you are often told this, but you are a beautiful young woman and most accomplished. I understand if your talents need a larger arena than our modest little tribe can provide."

"Thank you, Madam," Wildchild answered. "I hope I can live up to the high expectations everyone has of me."

"That's something I cannot doubt. ... Very well, young lady, I'm already prepared and understand. Give me the bad news."

"I have no news at all, Madam, good or bad. I have only a request."

"What's your request?"

"Please, may I bring a friend home when I return to the forest in a fortnight?"

"Return? Home? ... Of course you can bring a friend. Who is she?"

"Her name is Hazel Violetsdaughter Farmer. She's my bedmate."

"Your bedmate? Well, I'll be buggered!"

Wildchild suppressed a laugh.

"Oh, please excuse my language, child, but you have a habit of tripping everyone around you."

Mirselene couldn't have been more pleased with the girl, who called the forest 'home' and wanted to bring a friend who might join the tribe.

"I had you wrong, young lady. I thought you weren't coming back to us."

"Where else would I go," Wildchild asked, somewhat naively, "if not back to my tribe?"

"Now, don't be modest. You know that every tribe would fight to have you join them. And, of course, Hazel is welcome to stay with us. She must be someone special to be your bedmate."

"She is, Madam. She was the head of the Juniors during the last Cloner Fair."

"I remember her. She was most attentive and beautiful. I'll be honored to welcome Hazel to the Woodlanders. ... But, can I ask a personal question?"

"Of course, Madam."


To be continued